Dark
by Makesushi
Summary: The love and understanding of your parents are what shape who you will become. So who will he be when he had neither of these things. It only takes one mistake to create a monster.
1. Chapter 1

**Summery: The love and understanding of your parents are what shape who you will become. So who will he be when he had neither of these things.** **It only takes one mistake to create a monster.**

 **Dark Side/sort of shy/Slytherin/Not BWL! Harry, Mentor! Snape, Good! Dumbledore, Mentor! Voldemort, Living! James,**

The Potter's were proud to say that they were rather extraordinary, thank you very much _._ They lived in the small wizard and muggle village of Godric's Hollow with their two young sons. 25 month old Michel James Potter and two month old Harry Luis Potter.

While it might have seemed strange to anyone who asked, that they decided to have two children in the middle of the war, especially with the constant threat of the prophesy that had caused them to go into hiding. Poor little Harry was born in the house that was put under the Fidelius charm.

Lilly Potter rocked her youngest son back and forth on the rocking chair while her two year old was playing with a toy on the floor. His wild fiery hair a mess around his chubby face while he banged on the plastic drum. She put her younger son in the crib and tucked him in. "Michel, that's enough. Muggle toys aren't as strong as wizard ones." She said softly, picking up the pouting child and holding him close. He pouted and reached for it, casting his mother a hurt look. She giggled softly and put the small child near his brother.

"I'll be right back dear, look after your brother, won't you?" She quickly made her way from the nursery to find her husband who was passed out on the couch. She sighed and smiled. Lilly pulled a blanket off the chair nearby, and draped it over his body. She leaned down, and kissed his head.

With a crash behind her, and a cruel hiss, Lilly Potter's life was ended on the spot, with her husband, screaming in horror, as the figure of a tall man with long black hair, casting another spell, that left her husband unconscious.

* * *

The Dark Lord made his way up the stairs, sneering at the muggle decorations that were littered around in a trashy display. There was the sound of an infant wailing, which drew him to what he was looking for. He opened the door, and scoffed in annoyance at the two children. One with high pitched screams, the other was trying to sooth his brother.

The red head looked up at him, as if asking him what to do. The Dark Lord slowly pulled his wand from his sleeve and looked the two children over. There was a bleeding gash in the shape of a bolt of lightning, that seemed to be stitching itself back together. "How strange." He said, before turning his wand on the older of the two.

"Papa?" The young child asked, gripping onto the bars of the crib.

"No child, death." He made the quick movements of his hand and shot at a curse at the boy, but was greatly surprised when the green light came back and hit him in the face. He screamed in rage in pain, as he violently clawed at the half of his face that was burning.

He had collapsed onto the floor when he finally managed it. He breathed in and out deeply, he looked up and glared at the screaming child, who had nothing more then a cut on his face. "I will not be-" He stopped, and swayed on his feet, clutching onto a shelf. He felt so weak, certainly not strong enough to cast another killing curse. "What in the world could..." He reached into his pocket, pulling out a locket. He needed to leave that place. He could feel people. breaking down the shields he had put up. He didn't have time to grab his wand from where it had flown. But that was fine. It was broken anyways.

* * *

Michel James Potter, the boy who lived. The slayer of the Dark Lord, was in Harry's opinion, the most rotten foul prick to walk on their universe. At only eleven years old, Harry believed, that Michel was the most self adsorbed person in the country, with the fame to back it up. Nine years after their mother's death, he was hailed as a hero, though he did nothing but cry and suck on his thumb.

Since the attack that had left their family broken, the Dark Lord had yet to show his face again, making many believe that he was dead. His wand was left behind, and that seemed good enough to convince everyone. Harry thought that was stupid, but he knew better then to voice his opinion. His father could be a frightening man.

Michel was loved by everyone. Harry was loved by few. Michel was treasured and treated like a prince by their father. Harry was not. Michel was a hero. Harry was a no one. Michel was the heir to both the Black and Potter households. Harry would get nothing. Even when they were small children, Harry was taken care of by the house elves that lived in their home, while James doted and loved the son that had destroyed the monster that had killed his wife.

When Harry was a small boy, he would cry and scream for attention, but he would never receive it. Not from James. But from Remus Lupin and Sirius Black. They were kind people, but they couldn't be there all the time, so Harry lived his childhood, with his eyes cast low, and a bitter throb in his heart. Unwanted, unnecessary, unloved.

It was just...how things were.

* * *

Harry stood at the platform, slightly behind his father, as the rich pureblood lord hugged and kissed his eleven year old son, wishing him the best of luck for his first term at Hogwarts. Harry felt that ugly monster in his belly roaring again, so he turned away, and sought out something else to look at. Like the Weasly's.

He knew them all. Ginny, the little eight year old girl who crushed hard on his brother. Ron, the nine year old, rather slow young man who never seemed to really like him much. Fred and Gorge, who were _also_ starting their first year, fun to be around. Percy, starting his second year. Bill in his seventh year, with a bright future ahead of him. Then the oldest, Charlie, who had already been out of school for four years.

They were a lively bunch, certainly.

"How unsightly." The haughty voice of Lady Greengrass said, looking at the family with a sneer. "They have more children then they do freckles." The two women beside her giggled, casting the Weasly's viciously humorous looks.

He watched his brother leave, feeling a weight come off his chest. For the first time in his life, maybe _he'd_ get to be the favorite son. Since there was no one else around.

* * *

"You're bloody useless, you know that?!" James shouted at him, pounding his fist into the table. "What kind of a _idiot boy_ can't even eat properly!?" He pushed the rest of the dishes off of the counter. causing them to shatter all over the ground.

"I-it was an accident. I wasn't paying attention. Forgive me father." Apologize. Always apologize. Even if what you did didn't seem all that bad, to James Potter it _was._ If you wanted to avoid a beating, then you did what you needed too.

"Get out of my sight, you useless child!"

Harry didn't have to be told twice.

* * *

Christmas was the worst time of year in the world. He never got anything from his family, yet was expected to get large, extravagant gifts for his bratty older brother. He pawed through ancient books, that would have no doubt held the wonders of magic. But Michel hated books. He hated learning.

So Harry bought him the same thing almost every year. A card with a moving animal, a fuck ton of sweets, and a brand new toy. It pleased him, and it kept the little shit off of his back for a few weeks, which was almost worth being forced to spend his own money on someone he hated.

"What do _you want_ this year pup?" Sirius asked, gripping his hand tightly.

"Nothing particular. I'm fine with anything not to extravagant." He said, pulling his eyes away from the text books, to smile at his brother's godfather.

"Meh, that just makes it harder to shop."

"I'm not picky. I'll just be glad that you remembered I existed when I'm standing next to the great and wonderful Michel Potter."

"Harry, you know it's not like that."

"Then _please._ Tell me what it is?"

* * *

The next year repeated much the same way. Michel went to school, Harry was left with his angry father, having to buy gifts and sweets and cards for his annoying brother. Being left alone with James for months, which only seemed to make the man hate him more.

Finally, a month before his eleventh birthday, a brown owl flew into the house, and dropped off his Hogwarts letter on the table while he and his family were eating breakfast. "Well...I guess you're not complacently useless." James said, taking the letter from him. "We'll go get both your things tomorrow."

* * *

They had split up, much to Harry's relief. He walked into the robes shop, and was directed to the back, where a sharp faced blond boy was already getting his fit.

"Hogwarts too?" He asked, examining his nails.

"Uh...yeah." He softly answered, standing next to him. "I'm Harry by the way. Harry Potter."

The boy had the tact not to start bombarding him with questions, though Harry could tell that he had many. "I'm Draco Malfoy, it's a pleasure to meet you." He smiled, trying to appear charming to the youngest Potter. "And...if it's not to bold, may I ask where our young hero is?"

"In a ditch somewhere if I'm lucky." Harry sighed, then winced when the woman jabbed her needle into his leg 'on accident.'

Draco laughed, the sound was somewhat cold and reserved, but seem to come from a place of amusement. "Are you not fond of your big brother."

"No."

* * *

Never in his life had he hated such a concentrated group of people in his life.

"Potter, can I meet your brother?"

"I didn't know he had a little brother."

"He almost as handsome as Michel is."

He stalked down the corridor, his hands tight by his side, and the storm in his mind growing larger with every person that stopped him to ask about the great Michel _fucking_ Potter. He found an empty compartment and slammed the door closed, making sure to lock it and close the blinds. He shoved his heavy trunk in the overhead compartment.

"I hate him." He muttered to himself, his knuckles white. "I exist too!" He shouted to no one, almost punching the glass out of the window. He fell backwards and rubbed away the angry tears from out of his eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry managed to maintain some amount of peace with his nose tucked into a book. He thought he was finished dealing with his brother's fans popping in to annoy him, when no one came after a few hours. But his hopes were crushed by a bushy haired girl with large front teeth. "Have you seen a toad?" She asked, her tone far to bossy for Harry's liking. "A boy named Neville's lost one."

"No." Harry said, not looking up, turning the page, trying to re-imagine himself into the world of fantastic beats. She looked very put off by his rude behavior, but put that aside with a gasp, when she saw the crest that was sown into his cloak.

"You're Michel Potter's younger brother!" She said, stepping into the compartment, closing the door behind her. Harry could feel a large headache coming on. "I've read all about him in the books in the Alley when I was getting my school things. So, who are you anyways?"

Harry looked at her like she was an idiot. He sighed and tucked his book into the trunk above him. She obviously wasn't going to leave him to read in peace. "It's rude to ask for someones name, before giving your own."

She blushed and apologized a few times, and held out her hand. "I'm Hermione Granger."

"I'm going to guess and say that your parents are muggles, aren't they?" Harry asked, looking as her smile slid off her face, and slowly lowered her hand. "Yes? Well, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave Granger, you're going to get mud all over that seat."

"And what does that mean!?" She spat, standing up angrily.

"That your filthy blood makes you dirty, now get out, mudblood." Harry snapped back.

She let out an angry shout, and left, slamming the door behind her.

* * *

He changed into his uniform, making sure he looked presentable. His tie was tightened, and he looked a little stuffy, but he'd learned to put up with it, after years of living like a pureblood. It was finally his chance to stand out, without the rather large shadow of his brother.

He looked out at the castle in awe, as he and the other first years made their way into small boats, four at a time. He was sitting with Ron Weasly, Granger, and the Nott heir. The four of them sat in awkward silence, as they floated closer to the shore. Ron looked like he wanted to ask Harry a question, but thought better of it. Good.

They climbed out, and were ushered into a waiting room, where a stern looking woman was waiting for them. Harry knew her. A member of the Order of the Phoenix. One of his father's friends. Harry hated her already, and he was sure that the feeling was mutual if his father ever talked about him to her.

They were given a rundown on how the sorting worked, then they were taken into the great hall, where the older years looked at them eagerly. Harry caught sight of his brother, and scoffed in disgust, turning his head away, while in his chest there was a strangely tight feeling. He really didn't understand why his family hated him so much. He was a normal little boy growing up, actually really nice, until his father stomped the kindness out of him like a merciless monster.

He lowered his head, actually feeling shameful that he wasn't good enough. But those strange mood swings were what made him hate his family so much. It really was enough to drive someone insane.

He ignored as most people were sorted, only catching a few names here or there so he wouldn't look like a slack jawed moron when his name was called. He saw the boy he had met in the robe shop, be sorted into Slytherin, and then after a few more students it was Harry's turn.

He looked and saw that his brother was watching him, with a strangely excited expression on his face, that almost had Harry believe his brother wanted him to be in the same house. He sat on the chair and the hat was lowered over his eyes.

"Hmmm, interesting, yes very interesting Mr. Potter." The hat said, surprising the boy a bit. causing him to sit a little straighter. "How can such a smart be useless child? Don't fear, you'll find where you're place in life. There's one place in particular that I think you'll feel right at home. SLYTHERIN!" The hat yelled, and Harry was met with complete silence as he pulled the hat off. That was until an older year, with a pointed face, and a gold P pinned to his chest stood and began to quickly clap loudly. after a few seconds, several more more prefects stood and clapped with him, then a few other people, and Draco. Until all of Slytherin was standing and clapping for Harry.

Harry stood there for a few seconds, not really sure what he was supposed to be doing with himself. He looked over at his brother again, and saw the older boy glaring at him hatefully. Harry looked away then quickly made his way over to the table, where a hand fell on his back, and guided him into a place where the other first years were sitting. "Welcome to Slytherin." The older boy said, pushing down on Harry's shoulders so he'd sit.

"It was a bit of a surprise." A dark skinned boy said, after the headmaster had given his speech. "Everyone expected you to be sorted into Gryffindor like every other Potter."

"It's true." Draco said "But...we're glad you're here."

"Thank you." Harry said, lowering his head, feeling his face warming up. He'd never been told by anyone that they were glad he was there.

The feast continued, and Harry talked with the five first year boys. Theodore 'Call me Teddy' Nott, Blaize Zabani, Vincent Crabb, Gregory Goyal, and of course Draco Malfoy. He didn't talk much, not really sure how someone was supposed to act around pureblood children, that followed old ways. He'd hardly ever left the house, James had made sure of that.

When everyone was finished, the prefects rounded up the younger students and herded them down to the dungeons, making sure that everyone was in a straight line. First through third year were instructed to wait in the common room by the fireplace, while the other students milled around, grabbing books, or catching up with old friends.

Harry sat on the floor, next to Draco Malfoy's legs, like the aristocrat wanted him to do, not really sure what else he could do. He pulled his knees up to his chest, and rested his chin on them.

"So, what's it like living with Michael Potter?" One of the second year girls asked him, looking down at him from her position on the couch.

Harry looked at her in annoyance, then looked up at Draco, seeking some kind direction on how he was supposed to respond to such a rude question, but Draco wasn't paying attention to him. Harry looked back at the girl, opening and closing his mouth a few times, trying to find the right words. "It's not pleasant." Was what he settled on.

"What do you mean, don't you get to rub shoulders with important people?"

"Not really. They're all there for my brother, not me. My father doesn't really like it when I get in the way."

"Oh, so you're like the family embarrassment then?" She asked, being crueler than was necessary.

"I'm sorry, who are you?" Harry snapped at her suddenly.

"That's enough McMillin." Draco said, finally turning his attention onto Harry. "Don't offend him now. You just keep talking down to him like you're so important. Who are you again? The fourth born child, trust me, you aren't much." Draco turned his eyes to Harry. "ignore her Harry."

"Alright." Harry turned away from the offended girl, and watched the as the other younger Slytherins snickered at her.

They were interrupted from speaking with one another when a man dressed like an overgrown bat stormed into the dungeons, and the older kids quickly made their way over so they could hear what the man was going to say, because it was apparently going to be important. Two prefects were standing next to him. Both of them were boys, both of them looked equally stern, with an edge of cruelty in their eyes.

"Welcome...to Slytherin house." Said one of them. "I'm Cyril Meakin, seventh year prefect, and this is Jonathan Spratt, the sixth-year male prefect, and we are delighted to welcome you to Slytherin house, and welcome you back if you are returning. As you can see, our emblem is the snake, the wisest of creatures. Our house colors are emerald green and silver. Our common room, looks out into the depths of the Hogwarts Black Lake. We often see the giant squid swimming by. We like to think that our hangout has the aura of a magical underwater shipwreck.

"'Now there are a few things you should know about Slytherin and a few things you should forget. For the first years, I'd like to dispel a few myths. You might have heard the rumors about Slytherin house, that we're all into the Dark Arts, and that we'll only talk to you if you're somehow related to a famous wizard from the Witch Trials, or some rubbish like that. Well you don't want to believe what you hear from competing houses. I won't deny that we've produced our share of unsavory individuals, but so have the other houses, they just don't like to admit it. And yes we have traditionally accepted students who come from long lines of witches and wizards but now you'll find plenty of people in Slytherin house who have at least one muggle relative.

"'Here's a little known fact that the other three houses don't bring up much, Merlin was a Slytherin. Yes, Merlin himself, the most famous wizard in history, was a Slytherin. He learned all he knew in this very house.

"' But that's enough about what we're not and more about what we are. Which is the coolest and edgiest house in this school." He paused for a moment and looked at the dreary man and smiled. "Sorry professor, just telling it how it is. Anyways 'We play to win, because we care about the honor and traditions of Slytherin. We also get respect from our fellow students. Yes some of that respect might be tinged with fear because of our darker reputation, but you know what? It can be fun, having a reputation for walking on the wild side.

"'We Slytherin's look out for our own, which is more then you can say about Ravenclaws who will throw their friends under the bus for higher scores.' Here in Slytherin house, you have a family, a support group, and we need to seem like we're always sticking together, because otherwise, we'd be completely alone.

"It's understandable that families fight, but it is a house rule, that we keep all grievances inside the house, and make sure the other three houses don't find out." He took a deep breath and sighed. "Now please direct your attention to Professor Snape, for the house rules."

The man slowly made his way to the center of attention. No one dared to say a word, intimidated by his aura of professionalism. "Hello." He greeted simply, looking around the room. "As Mr. Meakin said, welcome to Slytherin. I will go over the carry yourself in a dignified manner. That means you will be respectful to teachers, prefects, and the head boy and girl. Whether or not they belong in our house. You will not brake the rules Mr. Filtch has in his office-also posted on the notice board. Second, first years through third year, lights out by nine-thirty. Fourth through seventh years can set their own hours, but everyone is expected to be awake by six thirty, and down in the great hall for breakfast at seven, am I understood?" He looked around and no one would dare to tell him no. "Good, dismissed. Younger years, off to bed."

Harry stood with the rest of his yearmates, and followed them, until a hand grabbed his shoulder. "Not you Potter." Their intimidating head of house was standing right behind him, with a sour look on his face. "I need to have a word with you in my office."

Harry wasn't sure how he was supposed to react. "Yes sir."

Professor Snape's office was cold and dark, just like the man himself. "You wanted to speak to me sir?" He asked, standing by the man's desk, across from where the man was sitting.

"Yes. I did." Snape said, gesturing to a chair for Harry to sit in. He waited until the boy was settled in before speaking again. "I wanted to address your older brother's celebrity status." The man sneered, scrunching up his long nose, making himself look like an even nastier person than he already did.

"What about it, sir?" Harry asked, feeling another headache coming on.

"Well, I wouldn't want your family's fame to go to your head, Mr. Potter." He smirked at the stunned boy. "I'm sure you've enjoyed being pampered and fussed over by your pig headed father, but all that ends. Today. I will not let you do whatever it is you wish. You're in my house, and I'll be giving you some real discipline."

"Excuse me?" Harry asked, actually really offended. "You have no idea-"

Snape cut him off with a hand raised. "I won't hear it. Get used to it, Potter, your life of leisure is over." The bitter teacher seemed pleased with himself. "Now, get off to bed, don't want you to be breaking the rules of your first day."

Harry looked at the man angrily then stormed out of the office, however not slamming the door.

Draco and the other first year boys had been waiting for him. "So, what did Professor Snape have to say to you?" The blond boy demanded, almost as soon as Harry had closed the door. "You look a bit put off."

"He...he's awful." Harry flopped down onto the bed where his things were waiting for him. "He told me that my father was spoiling me."

"Isn't he?" Teddy asked, turning the next page in his book.

Harry only growled and turned over, pulling the blankets over his shoulder.

"So he's not then?" Draco sat next to him.

"No." Harry said, turning around so he could look at his new friend. "He hardly ever talks to me, and when he does, it's not exactly nice things."

"What does he say?" Zibani asked, suddenly very interested.

"I'm exhausted. Sorry." Harry said to Draco, turning back over and closing his eyes. Draco pat his knee and got up, giving him a pass for awhile. It wasn't that long until Harry had fallen asleep. He woke the next morning, and felt as if he hadn't slept at all.

He, and all the other first years were woken up by the fifth year prefects. "Come on, shake a leg, Potter." The annoyed older student demanded, throwing the blankets off of him. "Go get ready, breakfast in an hour."

Harry rolled out of bed, and right onto the floor. He heard his yearmates cackling, but no one came to help him. He pushed himself up off the ground and looked around. The bathroom door was open, and the kids were talking loudly, while they were in the shower. Harry decided that he would have to wait until the other boys were finished.

He sat on his bed and looked at the wall blankly. "Maybe I don't even need to shower in the morning." He said, then just threw on his clothes and ventured down into the common room. There were older students who looked like they were dead, and none of them paid any mind to Harry when he slumped into a couch. Harry made sure that he was watching the clock, so he wouldn't be late. Or Snape would be on his ass again.

Harry had been really disappointed when he realized that Snape hated him for no reason at all. It was just like home. But he figured it wouldn't be as bad with the students around. He was sure that the animosity wouldn't surround him like that suffocating cloud that was his childhood.

"Hey, Potter, get down to the great hall." One of the older students said. She gently nudged him off the couch, and pushed him towards the exit. "Don't want to be late."

None of the first year boys were out yet, so he stuck closer to the girls. They gave him strange looks, but he wasn't trying to converse with them, so they didn't say anything against him following. He sat on the side closest to the Ravenclaw table, where the first year boys were supposed to sit. He was the first one there, but he was only five minutes early, so he hoped that they'd be coming soon.

A few other students from the other houses were starting to drift in, right as the other five boys quickly sat in their seats next to Harry. Harry watched the other students as they walked to their tables and mingled. Compared to the other houses, Slytherin seemed very composed while they ate their breakfast.

Harry looked away quickly when he caught sight of his brother. He ignored Draco's question when he asked what his problem was. There was one of the third years saying something, then suddenly Harry's face was being slammed into his eggs.

"You're a bigger piece of scum then I ever thought." The voice of his brother snarled into his ear. The older boy grabbed him by the back of his shirt and threw him onto the ground.

"What the hell do you think you're doing Potter!" One of the fourth years yelled at Michel, grabbing his arm when he went to punch Harry in the face while the boy was trying to stand up. Most of Slytherin house was standing up, watching in horror. The fifth year prefects had ran off to get the proffesors, who had been running a little late.

"I'm going to mash that little shits teeth into his skull, that's what!" He managed to get loose from the other student's hold and hit Harry square in the face, causing a sickening crack to bounce around in Harry's head. Michel managed to get in a few more kicks and a punch before the teachers burst into the hall, and three seventh years, wrestled Michel onto the ground.

"What's going on here!?" Professor Snape demanded, followed closely behind by Flitwick and McGonagall. The two prefects that had gone to get them explained the situation, while someone helped Harry get up off the floor.

Harry cover his nose and mouth with his hand, trying to hide the blood that was dripping through his fingers. He wanted to cry. He wanted to cry really badly. But he wouldn't he desperately held it in, choking down the sobs that were trying to burst from his throat. The older girl who had helped him stand saw it in his eyes, she pulled him close, so he could cry and still keep his dignity. That's exactly what he did.

"Ms. Greengrass, please take Mr. Potter to the hospital wing." Snape said, watching the boy crumble to pieces in a very public place.

"Yes sir." She said, then wrapped her cloak around the boy's head. "Come on, Potter, let's get you cleaned up."

They walked down the hall, not answering any questions that were thrown at them by people who passed them.

"What's going on here?" The rich voice of their DADA arts professor demanded, looking at Harry's busted up face. The esteemed professor Crouch grabbed Harry's chin. "No fighting Potter."


	3. Chapter 3

"No fighting Potter, or did you not imagine that would be one of the rules?" Crouch asked, grabbing him by the chin. Harry winced and closed his eyes, trying to pull away from the teacher.

"Sir, Potter didn't start the fight, his older brother did." Greengrass said, trying to defend Harry's Slytherin honor.

"Oho? Why would he do that?" The man seemed amused by the thought.

"Because...I was sorted into Slytherin." Harry said, after he managed to move his face out of the grasp of his teacher. "It was unexpected, and unacceptable to my older brother." He rubbed away a bit of blood that had been dripping onto his white shirt.

Professor Crouch looked at him with a raised eyebrow. He curiously looked at the scar on Harry's head. "How...odd."

"Excuse me sir?"

"Nothing Potter." He turned to Greengrass and nodded to her, before he continued on with his day. Had Harry or the older girl been looking at Crouch's face they would have certainly been terrified at the twisted smile on his lips.

"I want to know why your brother attacked you." Snape said when he found the time to make his way to the medical wing. He stood beside Harry's bed, and looked down on him with a cold glare.

"I…" Harry scrunched up his nose and looked at his hands. "I _told you,_ that things are way different from how you think they are." He chewed on his cheek, and didn't look up at Snape.

"What do you mean Potter?" Snape demanded, grabbing his arm roughly.

Harry winced and tried to pull away. "They don't like me." He tried to explain. "They've never liked me. My father hates me especially."

Snape growled and threw Harry's arm away from him, and quickly turned to leave. He stopped, just before he got to the door. "I _will_ be handling this situation very quickly." Then he was gone, leaving poor Harry with many unanswered questions.

It was later in the day when Teddy Nott came to visit him with a large stack of paper. "These are all our assignments for the week." He said, sitting in the chair next to Harry. "They gave them to us at the beginning of our classes."

"I'll be out by dinner though…"

"Proffessor Snape just wanted to make sure that you didn't use this as an excuse not to do your work." He laughed softly, then stood up. "Well, I'll see you at dinner."

"Bye." Harry waved goodbye awkwardly. "Uh, thanks for coming to see me."

"Don't mention it." He pat Harry on the head, then left, closing the door quietly behind him. Harry sat up right in his bed, and looked through all of the work that Teddy had brought for him. He figured there was no need to wait, and if he finished it all on the first day, then he wouldn't have anything to do for the rest of the week, and that was amazing.

The orderly eventually released him, and Harry wondered into the Great Hall. The girl seventh year prefect quickly saw him and got up to help him find a seat with the other first years. "Professor Snape wants to see you after dinner, alright Potter?"

"Yeah, thanks for telling me." He smiled at her as he sat down. His yearmates were looking at him, with raised eyebrows and leaned in closer. "Can I...help you?" Harry asked, feeling slightly uncomfortable.

"Are you okay?" Blaise asked, his brows wrinkled.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be? Madam Pomfrey healed all my bruises." Harry shrugged, and grabbed a piece of bread.

"I think he means, are you okay after your brother beat you?" Draco said, with a twitch in his jaw.

Harry shrugged, and then turned back to his food, but when he saw that his yearmates weren't dropping it he sighed. "I'm used to it by now, there's no need to freak out."

"Woah, wait, _excuse me_?!" Blaise looked horrified, which only mirrored the expressions of the other people sitting near him. "You're _used_ to being _beaten_?"

Harry looked down at the ground uncomfortably. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, not really sure what he could say to them. A few of the second years had heard what Harry had said, and it was quickly spreading through the Slytherin table. It circulated around and eventually everyone was leaning really close to the poor 11 year old. He knew he had to say _something_ but nothing was coming to mind. "I...I'm used to it." He stood up, and quickly walked out of the great hall, with what felt like everyone watching him.

He had enough sense to remember that Snape wanted to talk with him after dinner, so he wandered down into the dungeon, and found the door to the surly man's office, and plopped down in front of the door. He pulled his legs up to his chest, and waited. As it turned out, he didn't have to wait long.

" _Potter_!" The harsh voice of his head of house snapped, causing the 11 year old to snap his head up. "Care to explain exactly _what_ happened at dinner?"

"I...uh, they were just crowding in on me. It made me uncomfortable." He tapped his foot against the hard stone floor. His teacher was giving him a disbelieving look, but it didn't seem completely hateful like it had the night before.

"Come into my office." He ordered, holding the door open for Harry to follow. The 11 year old nodded his head and quickly made his way inside so he didn't cause Snape to become angry. Snape followed after he closed the door and locked it. He observed Harry, and gestured to a chair by a large desk covered in paper. Harry sat and looked down into his lap. Snape was walking around the room, and Harry watched him out of the corner of his eye.

"Sir...if I may?" Harry looked up and laced his fingers together in his lap. "Why am I here?" He asked nervously.

"I wanted to make sure that you weren't going to try and get out of your homework." Snape said instantly, showing Harry that nasty side of him that the young boy had come to expect. "However...now I think we need to discuss some things that your yearmates have said." He turned and quickly made his way to the other side of the desk, and sat in the chair across from Harry.

Harry sunk lower in his chair, feeling his stomach drop. "Really sir, it's no issue." He scratched the back of his head. "I'm used to it."

Snape hummed softly and then turned a very stern look at Harry, his dark eyes narrowed. "And...by chance, would you be used to the same treatment from your father?" He asked, but from the look on his face, he already knew the answer.

Harry looked away, seemingly ashamed of what his father did. "It's...not that big a deal."

Snape's eyes lit up angrily and his right hand tightened into a fist. Harry flinched slightly, and closed his eyes. The professor, seemed to remember what he was doing, and unclenched his fist. "Potter, look at me." He demanded, not quite as harshly as he would have, had it been any other situation. Harry opened his bright green eyes, and looked at his head of house. The man was sitting with his back straight and with fingers drumming against the table. "Your father should be in prison." He said simply.

"I…" Harry seemed a loss for words for a few moments. "Sir, I don't think anyone would ever believe me." He said softly.

Snape twisted his mouth bitter smile. "No, most likely not." He grabbed a piece of parchment and started to write something quickly. "But, I'll still inform the headmaster, regardless." He was silent as he scribbled a note down. He folded it after the ink had dried, and tucked it into his desk.

"Sir...may I go now?" Harry asked, feeling awkward just sitting in the office of a man he knew hated him.

Snape looked up, like he had forgotten that Harry was sitting right in front of him. He sighed and massaged the bridge of his nose. "Potter, I want you to come tell me if your brother assaults you again, is that clear?"

"Yes sir." Harry said softly, looking down at his hands, picking at a bit of skin that was coming off. He looked up when something was put in front of him. A sandwich and a glass of water. "Professor?"

"Eat, Potter." He demanded, like Harry was stupid. Which brought back some normalcy into the situation. "Then you can go back to the dorms." He stood up from his desk, and spent the rest of the time Harry was there not talking to him, and instead organizing this or cleaning that. When Harry was finished, the eleven year old didn't even give his professor a 'goodnight' as he left.

Draco was waiting for him. The young blond boy was sitting on Harry's bed, flipping through one of his own textbooks. When Harry entered the room, the boy looked up. "What did you and Severus talk about?" He asked, snapping the book closed.

"O-oh, he uh, he just wanted to know about my home life." He said, observing the boy he had just met. The blond looked at him, and nodded his head softly.

"Harry will you answer a question for me?"

"Uh, yeah, I don't see why not."

Draco scooted over to make room for Harry, and pat the seat next to him. He looked between his book and Harry at intervals of a few seconds. His lips were pressed together and his shoulders were tense. Harry sat next to him and looked down at the history book. Draco closed it softly, and put it on the bedside table and folded his hands in his lap.

"Harry…" He said softly, looking at his friend from the corner of his eye. "I have to ask. Why did your brother hit you?" He asked.

Harry looked at the boy with an open mouth, not really sure how he was supposed to answer. "I...um, I'm not really sure. Because he hates Slytherins?"

Draco gnashed his teeth together, in a way that seemed completely out of character for the aristocrat. "Does he hit you...because your father does as well?" He asked slowly.

Harry blinked, feeling something like ice in his chest. Two people in one day seemed to have connected the dots. when no one else in his whole life had. Or, maybe an even more frightening thought, they didn't care. Was Harry really so insignificant to his family?

Draco grabbed his hand and looked at him in the eye with a serious shine in them. "Harry, I don't know much about the laws of this country, but beating your children is a very serious crime."

Harry ripped his hand away from the boy and stood up. "Why do you care?"

"Why wouldn't I?" He asked, gently grabbing Harry's hands again. "Why wouldn't I care that your father hurts you?"

Harry let the aristocrat keep his hands close. "Because, no one's ever cared before." He said softly, keeping his eyes downcast.

Draco hummed softly and let go of his hands. He grabbed the book off the bedside table and opened it back up the the page that he had been reading before. He cast Harry a brief look, before going back to it. "Harry, I want you to tell me if your brother causes you any more trouble. Alright"

"Yeah, alright, I will." He promised with a soft smile.

"Good."


End file.
